A Likeable Knob
by Rointheta
Summary: Ficlet taking place after s02e01. Hardy and Ellie are supposed to go over the Sandbrook files but bond a little at first in their own way. Gen, but if you're so inclined, it can be shippy if you squint.


**Unbetad  
>Note<strong>: set after s02e01  
><strong><br>**

* * *

><p><strong>A LIKEABLE KNOB<strong>

* * *

><p>A knock on the door made Ellie freeze where she stood by the bed, jumper over her head, about to change into her nightgown. "Don't come in!"<p>

She could practically hear Alec's exasperated sigh. "I'm not coming in."

She tugged the jumper back in place and hugged her arms around her body. "What do you want?"

"I need your help." He paused. "If you're not too tired."

She checked on Fred in the travel crib. He was sleeping soundly, pudgy baby cheeks pink and tiny baby curls slick against his forehead. She folded down one of the blankets to cool him down a little, and stroked his face, the cute slope of his nose. He looked so much like Tom at that age it made her heart ache with longing for her eldest.

Another knock caused her to jolt and she shouted out that she was coming before she could stop herself. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together when she heard her loud voice ringing in the silent room. If she accidentally woke up Fred, she'd kill that bloody irritating, job stealing wanker. Luckily, Fred hadn't stirred, deep breaths making his tiny, round belly move up and down in a steady rhythm. With a resigned sigh, she caressed his cheek one last time and stepped out of the room.

Alec stood outside, shirtsleeves rolled up and tie loose around his neck. He gave her a short nod and a not-quite smile. "Claire's gone to bed. Just you and me, Miller."

They headed to the dining table, which was set with two tea cups and a platter of biscuits, and Alec sat down on one of the creaky wooden chairs.

"What's this?" she asked, gesturing at the table.

He looked at her, at the tea cups, then back at her. He indicted the cups with a nod. "Tea. And biscuits."

She leant back, regarding him. "You made that? On your own."

He met her gaze, held it for a beat, then took up a pile of manila folders that lay on the chair next to him, slapping them on the table. "We're going through my Sandbrook files."

"Why are you being so nice?" she asked, frowning. "Are you coddling me cos of Joe? Cos I don't need to be coddled."

"I'm not coddling you. Sit down." He flipped a folder open. "Two cousins. One murdered. One missing."

"Before everything," she said, taking the seat opposite him, "Joe told me, after dinner, that you'd asked him whether I liked you."

Alec paused. "Liked _working_ with me."

"Well, you're a knob," she said and he tensed up, fingertips holding one corner of the page, ready to turn it. "You're an utter knob, _sir_. But," she sipped her tea with a content hum; he'd prepared it just how she liked it, "you're a likeable knob. Some of the time."

A smile twitched at his lips, but he managed to keep his poker face. "We need to find Lisa Newbery. That is our priority. That'll solve the case."

"I thought Claire was the key."

He pulled his glasses out of his pocket and put them on, inhaling deeply through his nose when he skimmed through the file. "Never put all your eggs in one basket."

"Am I really here cos you need my help?"

"Why else would you be here?" he asked and licked his finger to turn another page.

"You could say we have a few things in common, me and Claire. Don't know whether I'm here to help you or to be a lady-in-waiting." She waited for him to reply, but he kept his nose in the file. "Cos Beth was right. It's all my fault. I should've known. Under my roof, all that time. I should've known. What kind of detective am I?"

"A good one." He put down the file and looked up at her, brows tugged together in concern. "Are you all right?" She shook her head and wiped her nose, sniffling. "You will be. Give it time."

"I have given it time! It doesn't work. You should know. It's not worked for you, has it? You're the most miserable old wanker I've ever met."

He lifted his hand, and when it for a moment looked as though he was about to reach across the table and lay it over hers, she flinched reflexively. But he pulled back and gave her a sympathetic look, mouth downturned. "You're not me, Miller."

"I could be."

"No." He did reach out then, giving her hand an awkward little pat that almost made her laugh. "No, you couldn't."

"I never said thanks."

"For what?"

"For speaking to my sister and Olly. For making sure they'd tell Tom. After Joe, after he plead not guilty. Would've killed me, if he'd had to find out from one of his friends."

"I know. Now," Alec said and cleared his throat, settling back in the chair and tossing her the folder, "shut up and read the bloody file."

"Yes, sir," she said and opened it to immerse herself in the case that had plagued him for so long and she would do her absolute best to help him solve.

* * *

><p>THE END<p> 


End file.
